We have sheep.

I once saw a video of a bunny herding sheep. While it is adorable and thoroughly entertaining (I did watch all five minutes…twice), I now realize how very unimpressive it is.  Sheep are pansies.  I've seen approximately 687 sheep this week, and while Kyle and I have each made it our personal goal to touch a sheep, Pat, my temporary Irish boss, is not amused by them.  We pass by them on the road, and all Pat can say, in an unmasked I've-been-dealing-with-these-annoying-animals-my-whole-life-and-there's-too-friggin-many-of-them-and-I'm-so-tired-of-staring-at-them kind of way, "We have sheep."   

But it will not be easy to touch a sheep.  There are farms all over the area, and the sheep seem to wander wherever they wish.  But come within twenty feet of them and they'll look at you with wary eyes and slowly move in the opposite direction.  Approach too quickly and they'll scamper off down the hill.  This is okay with me too because the babies look so dainty and cute when they run.  Add sheep to my list of animals to keep as pets when I settle down and buy a farm.  For now though, I just want to touch a sheep.

Meanwhile, I'm keeping busy with tasks around the hostel.  Thursday we stained picnic tables.  Friday, window washing.  Today, the walls upstairs need a new coat of paint.  And I've just been introduced to the hostel's reservation management program (yes!).  It has been absolutely and surprisingly sunny, warm, and dry, so after the work, there's been some trips to the beach (there are many here), some fishing, some running around near the seaside.  I do think I could skip the running from now on and get my exercise trying to catch a sheep.

The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick-maker

I haven't been in Ireland even three days, and already I'm almost certain that everything I've ever heard about the island is true.  I had this thought before the end of my first night here, but I gave it a couple days, just to be sure.  First of all, it IS green.  It's all green.  And it's very green.  The train I took the first day goes pretty straight West, from coast to coast through the middle of the country.  And the whole ride, to the north and south, all I could see was green.  The beauty here is entirely impossible to miss.
Secondly, I haven't yet met anyone here who wasn't friendly and endearing.  The first gentleman with whom I really had a conversation was Sean, who happened to be catching the same train from Heuston Station on Tuesday.  His introduction went something like this (and don't forget to add the fantastic Irish accent): "I'm Sean.  I'm a butcher.  I'm not butcherin' right now.  I'm also a gardener.  I am gardenin' right now."  Love it.  And then there were the taxi drivers who were happy to point me in the right direction once I got to Westport, despite me declining their services, and the woman I also stopped for directions when I inevitably got lost on the simple, ten-minute walk.  Then I had a couple hours to kill, waiting for the bus and watching all the passers-by.  I've really never seen so many cute, elderly couples walking and holding hands.  That should happen more often.  And then a man, who reminded me quite a bit of Mr. Thomas Andrews (Titanic), although he was not a ship-builder but in fact a baker, was kind enough to make sure I boarded the right bus when it arrived.  To continue the theme, the bus driver, I noticed, waved to everyone along the way, who then smiled and waved in return.  And when I finally did get to my hostel, Pat, the owner, gave me a very friendly welcome and tour of my home for the next few weeks.  I could get used to this.
By nightfall, I found myself, yes, in a pub, hanging around, singing along with the guitars.  And who would've guessed it?  Guinness all around.  I don't think I'll be too surprised if I run into a leprechaun soon enough.


Note: No, I have not met a candlestick-maker...yet.

The First 14 Hours

I had a lovely time in St. Louis and Chicago the past couple weeks, visiting with family and friends after leaving Denver, and thanks again to all those who opened their homes and/or spent time with me.  It was really great to see everyone!  But at last, it was my day of departure from the States, so let the traveling begin!
All packed up and ready to go, I took the short walk to the El station and hopped the Blue line to O'Hare to wait for my flight.  I already know I've brought too much luggage, but it'll have to do for now.  Thankfully, I am checking one bag, so I won't have to worry about that for a while.  A word of caution when flying Aer Lingus though: Don't try to bring an oversized carry-on.  Really.  There's a reason their rule is "strictly enforced."  It won't fit.  Oh, and also, dress warm.  I think they keep it really cold to prepare you for Ireland temperatures.  I'm pretty sure my core temperature dropped during the flight and isn't back up yet.  Apart from that, it was quite comfy.  I snuggled down with my blanket in the last row, and 7 hours later, I'm in Dublin!  Which I think I would love, if only I was spending more time here.  On the way back, perhaps.  But for now, I've got a little time before my train to check in with my people back home and catch a bus to the station!